


Wine bottle of gayness

by Ricksbowlegs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caring Daryl, Daryl is pissed off, Drunken Rick, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, Jealous Daryl, M/M, Rick is a light weight, Spin the Bottle, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:05:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5818924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricksbowlegs/pseuds/Ricksbowlegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too much alcohol and poor judgment can sometimes lead to good things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Got inspired to write some drunken Rick by the lovely Tiofrean and this came out.  
> Seriously, what is this crap? Hope you enjoy! :D
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd. They're all my mistakes. And I don't own any of these lovely characters or make profit from it.

It had all been Bob’s idea. No one complained, though. And it was understandable. They were finally settled in enough that they’d all started to feel safe for the first time in a while. 

No one had died in months and no walkers had gotten in. It was the perfect opportunity to have a small celebration. And quite frankly, they deserved it.

They’d agreed to do it in the offices for they were far enough from the cell blocks so that they wouldn’t disturb the ones who didn’t fancy getting shitfaced drunk. 

They’d brought at least a dozen bottles of alcohol― from beer to whiskey and everything in between―from The Big Spot along with some stale snacks. They were still good, though.

Daryl was there only because he had experience with drunkards and knew how to handle them if shit got out control. Rick went with him, just to watch he said. 

What a load of bullshit. 

It didn’t take much persuasion from Zach to get Rick to drown his first glass of rum and coke. It was sweet he said, and indeed, when Daryl tasted it, it wasn’t strong at all. So Rick accepted a refill. Daryl side-eyed him smirking as the ex-leader started to sway on his feet by the end of that second glass. 

“Just came by to watch, huh?” he teased trying to keep a stern face as he eyed the younger man’s unsteady form through narrowed eyes; arms crossed across his chest.

“Huh?” Rick asked dumbly, struggling to focus on his face. Rick was beyond catching up on the tease.

Daryl snorted. “Light weight.” 

The former sheriff walked on unsteady feet toward the table where all the alcohol was set on and the others were gathered around. He followed behind to make sure the other man actually made it to said table.

“Want another refill?” Zach asked and started filling Rick’s glass without waiting for an answer.

“Nah, I just…came to leave my glass,” the former leader said but took the glass anyway and brought it to his lips to take a sip.

“Yeah, right. C’mere,” Daryl said and led Rick to one of the chairs. 

A chorus of laughter coming from his left where all the girls had teamed up and were sharing a bottle of vodka around attracted the archer’s attention. They were undoubtedly wasted and laughing so hard that Maggie had to run off, claiming she was about to piss herself. Michonne and Shasha were on the floor, laughing their asses off while Carol looked all pleased with herself. 

To the right, the men were discussing “important” matters like which used to be their favorite soccer teams and how they all should play a match the next day; also wasted. 

At some point, all the girls left, taking the bottle with them claiming they needed to go to the bathroom as well. Their laughter kept on echoing through the hallway as they walked away. Daryl snorted and shook his head. 

“We should *hiccup* play a game,” Rick slurred suddenly, attracting the attention of the men sitting around the table. Daryl smirked. Drunken Rick was priceless. He looked so happy; eyes merely slits as he smiled brightly, proud of his fantastic idea.

“Yes!” Glenn echoed the former leader’s excitement pointing his index at Rick and staring at him as if he were a genius. They were drunkest of them all those two. Tyreese was too big; he probably needed twice as much as the rest of them to get drunk. Zach was emptying those beer cans as if they were water and Bob; he seemed to be handling that bottle of wine surprisingly well. Rick was by far the worst, swaying from side to side and giggling like an idiot at anything his wasted mind found remotely funny; a cute idiot though.

“What should we play?” Bob asked.

“Uh…maybe…” Rick said looking around the table for some idea, but there were only bottles there. His eyes then settled on Daryl who watched their exchange amusedly. “Daryl, what can we play?” Rick asked with a serious face. His hand dropped heavily on the archer’s shoulder, bringing him closer. 

“Don’ ask me. I’d say poker but y’all too fucking drunk to process a thought,” he said, prying Rick off of him for the younger man had latched onto him like a limpet; eyes fixed on his face and so intoxicatingly close Daryl fell his self control faltering. It wouldn’t do to get aroused now when Rick was so deliciously pliant. 

“Spin the bottle?” the former leader came with at last. 

“There are no girls here, Rick,” Glenn said with more intensity that such a statement required.

“No?” Rick asked and looked up at Daryl who was now standing behind him, supporting his head against the hunter’s chest. “Where did they go?”

“They left. To god knows where,” he answered and smirked at the cute pout the younger man gave him.

“I bet they’re playing spin the bottle,” Zach said devilishly. “I say we pay them a visit.”

“I say we play spin the bottle.”

They all looked at Rick with drunken mirth in their expressions, probably waiting for him to laugh it off as a joke, but the former leader kept serious as he sipped on his third drink.

They all started to look at each other, shrugging. 

“What’s the harm? Besides, I’ll never get to experiment in college,” Zach informed and gulped down the remains of his fourth can and setting it down with a thud. “Shall we do it?”

“I don’t know…” Tyreese said, slurring a bit, clearly more drunk than he appeared. “What d’you guys say?”

“Daryl?” Glenn asked. “What do you think?”

“Hey, don’ look at me, I’m just here to make sure yer drunken asses don’ make somethin’ stupid.” 

Rick looked up at him and pouted again.

“Rick wants to,” Glenn said, smirking knowingly. Daryl glared at him and the smirk banished comically. 

“Alright, let’s do it!” Zach clapped his hands excitedly and took one of the empty bottles of wine and sat down on the floor. The others followed. Rick tripped and fell against Tyreese who caught the giggling man easily.

“Thanks, Ty,” Rick sighed then looked at Tyreese as if he’d be looking at him for the first time. “You are like a big teddy bear―have I told you that? A big, huggable teddy bear,” he said and hugged the other man. Daryl couldn’t help but laugh at Rick’s antics, until the younger man stood on his toes and kissed Tyreese in the cheek. The bigger man turned to look at Daryl and rolled his eyes, smiling, but his arm still sneaked around Rick’s waist and his hand _still_ gave it a little squeeze as he helped the man down on the floor.

They all sat down in a circle, refilled glasses in their hands. Daryl watched them, amused that neither considered this gay as fuck or weird at all; in fact, they seemed excited about it. 

Boy, he would never quit teasing them.

“Rick, it was your idea so you go first,” Glenn encouraged. Daryl took a step closer, wanting to see with his own eyes who would be the lucky bastards to get a kiss from Rick’s perfect lips. The former sheriff took the empty bottle of wine and spun it on the floor. 

Six pairs of eyes set on it as it stopped, the neck pointing toward Tyreese. There were immediate cheers around, encouraging the kiss.

“Go on tiger,” said Zach, who was sitting on Rick’s left, pushing the older man toward Tyreese, who sat on his right side.  
Tyreese bursted out a laugh and shook his head from side to side. “What are we even doin'?”

Rick smiled cheerfully at Tyreese, waiting for him to give the okay.

“Alright, come here,” the bigger man said and Rick wasted no time to launch himself at him mouth first. Tyreese grabbed him by the waist as Rick circled his arms around his neck.

“Woohoo!” Glenn cheered. “You go, Rick. Go for your teddy bear!” 

Daryl snorted. They would never hear the end of it.

It was supposed to be just a peck on the lips the first time, but they all went quiet when Rick didn’t pull away and deepened the kiss instead. Tyreese didn’t seem to be complaining either and his hands started traveling from Rick’s waist to his back and up and down then back to his waist to pull him closer. 

Daryl couldn’t keep the wave of jealousy that hit him as Rick moaned into the kiss. The wet sounds of tongue against tongue had the men staring agape. And was that lust in their gazes?

Finally, Rick pulled away, breathless and flushed a deep shade of pink; his red kissed lips, swollen and enticing. Tyreese looked very pleased, and to the archer’s disgust, as he studied every man in room closely, he wasn’t the only one aroused by Rick’s disheveled look and wanton performance. 

Daryl wanted to punch a wall. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey instead and took a big gulp, grimacing at the burn.

“Alright, whose turn is it?” Bob asked, holding the bottle out. 

Glenn took it from him with haste and set it on the floor. “It’s Rick’s turn.” 

Daryl was about to argue that it’d just been Rick’s turn, but the rest went along with Glenn’s suggestion, nodding their heads and firmly telling the confused former leader that it was in fact his turn. In his inebriated state Rick went along with their logic, so he grabbed the bottle and spun it. A heavy silence fell as they all waited for it to stop.

It stopped on Zach. The same stupid slurred cheers followed. Zach rubbed his hands together, looking smug as fuck. Rick leaned to his left to kiss the younger man with the same enthusiasm as he’d kissed Tyreese (at least it wasn’t something special with Tyreese), his movements followed closely by the rest, especially by Daryl who watched the scene like a hawk while gripping the bottle in his hands with such force his knuckles turned white. 

Zach’s hand sneaked up to grab Rick’s curls, bringing the older man closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand on the former leader’s back, caressing it up and down, much like Tyreese had done. And again, Rick moaned wantonly and gripped Zach’s shoulders tightly. The silence fell again as the men observed the exchange of saliva. Daryl just knew they were all a bit uncomfortable in their pants. He sure was.

The kiss deepened even more and Zach’s hand started to travel down the small of Rick’s back to his ass. Daryl intervened and pulled the younger man away from Rick by his jacket before that could be accomplished.

“Hey!” Zach complained, clearly upset for not being able to reach his goal. 

“S’enough. Let someone else play,” he grunted.

“Yeah, let Rick play. It’s his turn,” Bob said laughing.

“It ain’t!” Daryl argued.

“Yes it is,” Glenn offered with a wink.

“Wasn’t it my turn like… just before?” Rick asked with confusion.

“Nah, that was Zach’s turn. It’s your turn now,” Bob added. Daryl fumed and started pacing the room, taking gulp after gulp of the strong liquid.

“Oh?” Rick said before grabbing the bottle again. It spun and stopped on Glenn this time. The look of utter satisfaction on the Asian’s face made Daryl want to slap him around. Weren’t all these idiots supposed to be straight?

The others cheered again. Glenn sat back, holding his weight on his hand and with the other he beckoned Rick toward him with his index. “Come here, pretty lips.”

They all laughed at Glenn’s weak attempt at acting seductive. Well, everyone except Daryl.

Rick took a sip form his drink and set it back on the floor then made his way toward Glenn, crawling across the floor on all fours while the men around him jeered and whistled. Once in front of the younger man, he placed both his hands on each side of the Asian’s face and brought his lips against Glenn’s. 

Glenn moaned into the kiss, his hands instantaneously griping Rick’s sides and caressing them, sneaking his fingers underneath the older man’s shirt to touch skin. Daryl’s protest died on his lips when Rick lost his balance and the kiss broke.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Bob said, preventing them from resuming the kiss. “It’s Rick’s turn.”

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed and took another gulp. 

Glenn looked at him. “Why don’t you join in? It could be you next…”

“Shut it, short round,” he snapped angrily but the younger man just sniggered.

“So, whose turn is it?” Rick slurred. And again, they tricked him into believing it was his turn, though Daryl was starting to doubt Rick didn’t know what they were doing. No one could be that dense, not even drunken Rick.

Again, the bottle stopped on Tyreese. 

Glenn laughed. “Oh, you have to give him a lap dance now!”

“Yeah, sit on his lap,” Zach encouraged.

“Shit, this is gettin' crazy, man,” Tyreese laughed all too merrily.

Rick turned on his knees, smiling dumbly and approached Tyreese in the same fashion he’d approached Glenn, walking on his hands and knees like a cat in heat. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking ‘bout! C’mere, darling,” Tyreese cat called and extended his arms toward Rick. The former sheriff put his arms around Ty’s neck again and Tyreese boldly put his hands in Rick’s ass to haul him toward him while the former leader spread his knees and placed them on each side of the bigger man’s legs, straddling him. 

“Fuck this shit,” Daryl muttered, taking out a smoke and lighting it, hoping that it would calm him enough that the compulsive need to knock Tyreese unconscious quelled down a notch or two. 

“You’re too pretty for your own good,” Tyreese praised Rick lamely, but still managed to make the former leader blush before he claimed the mouth Daryl had fantasized about for far too long. 

Tyreese all but devoured Rick’s mouth; drunk on more alcohol and noticeable less inhibited this second time. Or it could be that everyone had kissed Rick one round around already and they’d gotten used to it. 

Well, except for him and Bob. Bob was still in his white list.

Daryl blamed all this absurd demonstration on the alcohol, although he was sure alcohol didn’t have the _drink and turn gay_ side effect. Or maybe it was just the _Rick effect_ : stay to long in his presence and bam! You’re gay. Daryl didn’t recall ever being remotely interested in men before he met the former leader. It made sense.

Rick moaned into the kiss as Ty’s big hands gripped him with force by the hips and pulled him down flush against his crotch, grinding his hips up in turn, pressing his no doubt full erection against Rick’s ass.

Daryl couldn’t take it anymore so he stormed off and headed outside to the courtyard to finish his smoke in peace. 

After taking another gulp, he set the bottle on the table next to the barbecue and sat down. It was still warm from that afternoon, so Daryl figured ― as reluctant as he was― he’d smoke a couple more cigarettes before going back to that sickening show, for he still had to make sure they didn’t go further than grinding with their clothes on. Rick was too far gone to consent to anything.

About ten minutes later the door he’d just come from opened and no other than Rick appeared through it, calling his name. Daryl was surprised that he’d even noticed his absence at all. 

The younger man walked out and stumbled over some boxes by the door. Daryl snorted.

“Shit,” Rick huffed and tried to pry his foot out of one of the boxes while supporting his wasted self on the wall. He managed to kick the thing away and stared into the dark. “Daryl?”

“What’re ya doin’ here? Got bored of bein’ the center of attention’ in there?” he grunted spitefully but the comment passed right over Rick’s head.

“You weren’t in there…didn’t think I should stay so I came after you,” Rick said approaching him, following the sound of his voice. He nearly lost his balance but reached one of the tables closest to the door just in time to support his weight on it.

“Why?” he narrowed his eyes. “s’not like we’re together or somethin’.”

“Why did you leave?” Rick asked, still trying to spot him in the dark.

Daryl bristled. “Didn’ like the show much.”

“But I wanted to kiss you,” the younger man muttered in childish discontent.

“Really?” he said plainly. Such a phrase coming from the former leader’s mouth would have had a completely different impact in any other circumstances, but Rick’s mouth had been sullied by too many men tonight for it to mean anything.

“Yeah… but then you left,” Rick informed dumbly. As if he didn’t know.

Daryl took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt toward the barbecue. “Wasn’t even playing, genius.”

“You weren’t?”

“No, dumbass,” he scoffed.

Rick seemed to be struggling with his memories for a bit as silence fell between them. “I wanted you to play that so that I could kiss you... I’ve wanted to k―” 

“Kiss me, huh?” he interrupted. “Wasn’t enough for you to kiss all those douche bags in there?” The archer snapped with anger.

“You were supposed to play too...”

“Ya didn’ seem to mind much that I wasn’ one of ‘em,” Daryl scoffed and he couldn’t keep his anger under control or his tongue from uttering the next remark,“ _...slut_.”

The whiskey had hit its spot.

“Daryl, I’m sorry,” Rick groaned and rubbed his face with his hand. “I fucked up.”

“We ain’t together, dumbass. I don’ give a fuck who sticks their tongue down yer throat,” he argued weekly given he was biting Rick’s head off for the same reason. 

Silence followed and he had to squint to see what Rick was doing. He was just standing there. 

“Look, why don’ ya piss off n’quit spoiling mah drink? Came here t’be alone in case ya didn’ notice.” Daryl grimaced at his own words. He was such an asshole when drunk.

“I need to tell you somethin’” Rick slurred rubbing his eyebrow incessantly and swaying on his feet.

“Save it,” he said with disinterest.

“Nah, I ― I need to tell you,” Rick insisted and took a few steps toward the archer, walking around the table he was leaning against to do so. He didn’t get any closer though for he tripped on the corner of the bench at the head of the table and fell face first against the concrete floor with a thud. It would’ve been funny if the sound of Rick’s face slamming the cement hadn’t been so damn jarring.

The archer rushed to the fallen man’s side. 

“Shit, Rick, ya alright?” he said, turning Rick on his back to check the man’s face with his flashlight. He had a scratch on his chin and a cut on his lip. Blood was slowly starting to ooze from it. It would surely evolve into a bruise. And Daryl was to blame for it, him and his stupid pride. “Shit, Rick, I’m sorry.”

“Daryl…what happened? You okay?” Rick said, reaching out to touch his face.

“What? Yes, Rick. Wasn’t me who ate dirt,” he said and pulled Rick’s arm around his neck then stood up, hauling the younger man back on his feet then secured him on his side with an arm around his waist. “C’mon. We need to wake up Dr.S to check that wound and make sure ya didn’ get yer head. And then yer goin’ straight to bed mister; no more drinkin’ or smooching tonight.”

“’kay,” Rick agreed and leaned his head against the hunter’s chest as he let himself be lead back inside. 

After waking up Dr.S and once Daryl was a hundred percent convinced that Rick hadn’t hit his head on his way down and there wasn’t risk of a concussion and that the cut on his lip didn’t need stitches, he tucked the younger man against his side on the bed, making sure the blankets covered his back entirely. 

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he said and kissed the sleepy man’s brow lovingly. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing all that drunken mess. He would’ve never dared to get in the same bed as Rick before, let alone call him a sweetheart as he’d done plenty of times in his mind before; even less kiss the younger man on the brow. 

All this time pinning over the younger man and all it took was a stupid game of spin the bottle...though it could be the whiskey.

He stayed awake for a while. The guilt wouldn’t let him rest, both for letting the younger man fall and hurt himself when he could have easily prevented it by not being a dick and for calling him a slut. Surely Rick would not remember but it didn’t make Daryl feel any less guilty. Rick didn’t deserve that treatment. 

“Daryl?” the former leader rasped.

“Ya should be asleep,” he reprimanded.

He didn’t get an answer, just Rick’s soft lips against his, pressing on them in a delicate kiss. It was heavenly but it didn’t last long for Rick grimaced in pain and jerked away, touching the cut on his bottom lip with trembling fingers.

“Careful,” he said and pried Rick’s hand away. “Ya got a nasty cut there.”

The younger man sighed and pouted. But then gradually the pout turned into discomfort, and discomfort into alarm. “Gonna throw up,” was all Rick said as he sprawled out of bed in a hurry. Daryl sprang out of it too and helped the former deputy toward the bathroom as fast and as quiet as he could take him. 

They made it, thankfully and now Rick was hunched over one of the toilets, emptying his guts out.

“Rick,” he said, and kneeled beside the trembling man, placing a hand on his back and rubbing it up and down in a comforting manner. 

“Daryl…” Rick moaned, tying to quench the need to vomit again.

“Shh, it’s fine. Let it all out, sweetheart.”

Once Rick was done hurling but still sitting in the floor, Daryl brought him a wet towel to wipe his face with, careful not to put too much pressure on the wounds in his mouth and chin.

“I’m sorry…” Rick said out of nowhere.

“What for?” he sighed.

“The game…”

“Ya ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for,” the older man assured.

“But I wanted to―”

“Nah, don’ say it,” he interrupted. “Lemme help ya up.”

Rick nodded and put a hand on Daryl’s shoulder and with the other he pushed himself off the cold floor. Daryl did most of the work, thought for Rick’s legs seemed like jelly. He guided the younger man toward the sink, mindful not to make the same mistake of letting him walk on his own in his state, walking behind him and keeping both hands on the narrow waist. 

The archer grabbed one of the plastic cups and filled it with water then handed it to Rick for him to rinse his mouth. 

“Tooth brush,” Rick rasped after spitting the water out. 

Daryl sighed. “Where is it?”

“In my cell…”

“Fuck that. Use sum' toothpaste,” the archer said, grabbing the toothpaste and put a bit on his finger. “Open up.”

Rick pouted but obeyed, opening his mouth and wrapping plump lips around his finger, flicking his soft tongue against the tip. The action sent a jolt of pleasure to his groin so he pulled his finger out with a pop before his dick got any ideas. Then handed Rick the glass with more water and told him to rinse and gargle, chuckling to himself when the former leader did exactly as he told him.

“Okay, now spit.”

Rick spit and Daryl patted his mouth dry with another towel. He smirked at how natural this seemed, babying Rick. He could get used to it.

“Thanks,” the former leader said and handed the plastic cup back.

“No problem.”

Daryl helped Rick back in his cell and tucked him into bed once again. “Gonna be alright now that ya probably won’ choke on yer vomit?”

“No,” Rick whined childishly and reached for his hand. “Stay.”

“Nah, think ya had enough homosexual experiences fer the night.”

“Please,” the former leader begged pathetically, leaving the archer no option but to comply.

“Just until ya fall asleep,” he said and made Rick move so he could lie down on the small bed too. The younger man immediately scooted closer and placed his head against his chest.

“Daryl…” Rick grunted. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry… for what happened.”

“Ya don’ gotta be. Ya can do what ya want, Rick. Ya don’ owe me nothin’.”

“I want us to be more than friends,” Rick said plainly. 

“What?” he asked.

The former sheriff lifted his head and stared at him. “And I wanna kiss you.” 

“No,” he said. Rick’s hopeful expression fell for a moment, but it returned when he he continued. “Not now. When yer sober…when we both are.”

The younger man smiled tentatively. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he assured and kissed Rick on the tip of his nose. “Now get sum' rest. Hershel’s gonna want ya out in the field an' ya won’ be able t' get away from it just 'cuz yer hung-over.”

Rick nodded, smiling dazedly, and let his head fall against Daryl's chest. He sighed. Indeed, it hadn’t been so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this almost finished second chapter for this story from a while ago, and since I was a bit dry on new ideas and a bit stuck on my other story, I decided to finish it once and for all. Hope you guys enjoy!

Daryl woke up to a soundly sleeping Rick against his side; face buried against his neck and warm breath tickling his skin pleasantly.

Tightening his hold around the narrow waist, he tugged the man closer. Rick didn’t even stir. After the night he’d had, it’d be a wonder if the former leader wasn’t hung-over and he would need several extra hours of sleep to fully recover. But Hershel wouldn’t allow it. The ol’ man treated Rick like a son and scolded him like a father as well. He would sure have something to say when he found out about his condition.

With hard earned stealth, Daryl slid from under Rick’s unconscious form and off the bed, carefully lifting the precious head from his shoulder and placing it on the pillow. The younger man barely reacted. He was out. 

Stepping out of the cell with sure, quiet steps, the hunter made his way to the dining area and approached the counters in search for coffee and hot water.

“Good morning,” Hershel said, hopping toward him a mere minute later. 

“Mornin’ yerself,” Daryl greeted with a nod, while mixing the hot beverage with a spoon. 

“Had fun last night?”

There was a certain edge to that question and Daryl just knew Hershel was somehow aware of Rick’s state. He probably saw or heard them last night in their hasty trip to the bathroom. 

He grunted vaguely in response.

“Is Rick up yet?” Hershel innocently asked, but Daryl knew there was nothing innocent about that question. “He has to be out there in a few minutes.”

“He’s out,” he grumbled and made his way back into Rick’s cell, taking the coffee mug with him and grabbing some painkillers from the first aid kit on his way there, not really giving a shit if Hershel found it amusing that he’d spent the night in there— none of his damn business anyway. Daryl only hoped that the older man wasn’t expecting him to ask if he could date his adoptive son. He snorted at the ridiculous thought.

“Could you wake him up for me?” Hershel called just as he was about to reenter the cell blocks. Daryl gruffed in response and shook his head. 

Moving the curtain aside, he stepped into the cell and set the mug on the floor beside the bed before sitting down next to the sleeping man, who was in the exact same position he’d left him. 

“Rick,” he whispered, placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder to squeeze it a bit. “Wake up.”

Rick grumbled, but kept sleeping. Daryl smirked at the man’s cute pout of protest at being disturbed. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, ya gotta water yer plants an’ feed yer pigs,” he said, squeezing a bit tighter and giving him a shake. 

He was answered by a longer grumble, but this time, blue cracked open. 

“What?” Rick croaked out, squinting and blinking repeatedly.

“Time t’ wake up. Hershel’s gonna h’ve yer ass if ya don’ get up now.”

“Shit, my head hurts,” the former leader said, placing a hand over his eyes. “Everythin’ hurts.”

“No shit,” he teased, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to Rick along with the painkillers. “Take these; yer gonna need ‘em.”

“Thank you,” Rick rasped and took the offered items, drowning the pills down along with all the water in the bottle. He then lay back down in the same position as before, covering his eyes again.

“Just give it some time,” Daryl soothed, placing an oddly comfortable hand on the younger man’s hip. 

Rick uncovered his eyes to fix them on said hand then glance at him with a tiny grin. 

Daryl returned the smirk. It was a silent acknowledgement of what had happened last night between them. And that, yes, they were both still on board with it.

Suddenly, Rick’s smirk dropped and his expression turned from sleepily happy, to horrified in an instant as memories from last night came flooding back. 

“Oh, god, no,” he groaned, covering his eyes again. “Did I really—?”

“Yep,” Daryl nodded.

“Shit,” Rick gruffed, letting the hand drop from his eyes to give him a guilty look. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Was funny at first,” he replied honestly, for it had been at least amusing in the beginning. Not later, though.

Rick’s frown deepened as he grunted again. “Ugh, you saw me throw up.”

“Saw a lot last night,” Daryl teased then turned serious and muttered, “wasn’t the worst I saw.”

“I’m so sorry, Daryl,” Rick apologized again and Daryl wanted to kick himself for saying that last thing. 

“Hey, like I said last night, ya got nothin’ t’ be sorry fer. There ain’t nothin’ between us.”

Rick lifted his eyebrows. “Yet.”

He nodded. “Yet.” 

“Rick?” Hershel called from outside the cell, surprisingly staying on the other side of the curtain instead of just moving it aside as he always did. Daryl smirked at that.

“m’ comin’,” Rick rasped in reply, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching a bit. 

“Here,” he said and leaned down the side of the bed to fetch the mug and hand it to Rick. 

“Thank you,” Rick smiled sweetly and sat up, taking the offered mug in both hands. “Careful with yer…” he said, pointing at Rick’s lip. It looked worse than last night. 

Rick frowned and brought a hand to touch his lip, hissing in pain as he did so. “Did someone punch me?”

“Nah, ya fell on yer face.” He snorted at Rick’s confused expression. “Ya don’ remember?”

“No.” 

“Out in the court yard,” he explained.

“Oh, right,” the younger man said sullenly as that particular memory returned. “How much did I drink?”

“Not that much, really— yer just a light weight,” Daryl teased.

Rick chuckled at that and carefully pressed the mug against his hurt lip to take a sip.

“Rick, you have to take advantage of the light,” Hershel said impatiently.

“Man, he said he’s comin’, drop it already,” Daryl snapped and Hershel’s shadow hopped away. Rick chuckled and took a larger gulp of the warm liquid.

Eventually, Rick got up, although groggily, and put on his boots, all the while complaining about his still throbbing head and other parts that hurt after his fall. Daryl just sat there, admiring the way the man’s lean figure still moved with grace, even with a hangover. 

When the farmer was ready to go, Daryl stood up and slowly raked his eyes over the pleasant features. The younger man smiled and reached for his hand, interlacing their fingers together. 

It was true the alcohol had given him the pull to do things he wouldn’t have dared to do otherwise, but this felt so right and natural that he surprised even himself when he brought his hand up to Rick’s cheek and leaned forward to gently press his lips against the fleshier ones, careful not to hurt them.

Rick immediately responded, parting his lips and sticking his tongue out to meet his. It was bliss, to finally taste that mouth, still sweet from the coffee and so deliciously warm that he had to plunge in his tongue to savor each corner of it. Rick moaned against his mouth and wrapped an arm around his shoulders while tightening the hold on his hand. 

With a hand on the younger man’s lower back, Daryl brought him closer, and at the same time, walked a few steps ahead until he had Rick pressed against the wall to kiss him hungrily. 

Rick hummed in approval.

They both smiled as their kiss ended, and after three, noisy pecks on the mouth, they completely parted; both flushed and smiling like dorks. 

_Bless that fucking game._

“See you later?” Rick asked with a certain tone that Daryl didn’t dare to mark as suggestive, but it definitely held something.

He smirked. “Hell yeah.”

They exited the cell together. Luckily for Rick, none of the others was up yet so he could sneak out to his little farm without the stress of facing his kissing buddies and the embarrassment the moment would sure be accompanied with. Working all day under the abrasive heat with a hangover was punishment enough.

Daryl did see Glenn as he stepped out of his cell moments later, with slow steps and a mortified expression, followed by a laughing Maggie. 

Glenn grunted when he spotted him. “God, no.”

“You were there too?” Maggie asked him, face full of mirth. _She knew_. He shrugged and she burst out laughing. “This is too good.”

“Don’ get ideas. Wasn’t kissin’ nobody,” he scoffed then smirked as he glance at Glenn. “Yer husband on the other hand…”

“Ugh, why did we leave? I would’ve killed to see that,” Maggie lamented.

“Was less appealing than it sounds,” he lied, because aside from everything; from the jealousy and heartache, it had been quite an alluring show seeing Rick like that.

“So where _is_ Rick? I think he owes me an explanation after kissing my husband,” Maggie joked, feigning indignation.

Carol perked her head up on that, face full of shock. “Rick kissed Glenn?”

“Hey, not just me,” Glenn gruffed miserably as he sat down, holding his head between his hands.

“And I missed it?” Carol chirped, on the verge of cracking up into a laugh.

“We all missed it,” Maggie said with regret. “They played spin the bottle.” 

Carol burst out laughing at that and Maggie joined her. 

When she was calmer, her tearstained eyes fell on him as she choked around a laugh. “You too?”

“Nah,” he gruffed. 

Glenn scoffed. “C’mon. Rick didn’t kiss you when he went after you?”

Maggie and Carol looked at each other and started laughing again. Daryl just glared at them and left before it could get any worse, leaving Glenn alone to face the consequences of his actions. Plus, he had hunting to do and then help Zack with his car if he came back early. 

Grabbing an extra bottle of water, he made his way outside. 

Rick was already sweating profusely, and miserable was too light a word to describe how he looked as he brought the hoe down on hard soil with half the strength and enthusiasm he normally used for such a task. Still, he stood there for a bit to admire the performance with a smirk. Poor Rick. He sure was paying the price. 

“Gonna head out,” Daryl informed when he approached him. 

The younger man’s tired eyes lighted up at his sight and he immediately stopped what he was doing. “You’ll be back soon?”

He nodded. “I’ll try. Don’ work yerself too hard. Ya had a rough night,” he said and handed the bottle to Rick. “Stay hydrated.”

It took him a couple hours, but he caught a deer eventually and headed back home with uncharacteristic haste, wanting to see Rick and possibly kiss those plump lips as soon as possible.

Once back, Rick was still working, but he was now fussing around his bean plants instead of working the soil. 

“Hope ya had one hell of a lunch break,” Daryl said as he approached the man again. 

“I did,” Rick smiled at him, looking far better than when he left. “It’s almost gone now…the hangover.”

Daryl smirked and stepped closer to Rick who stood up and rubbing his hands on his jeans to get rid of some of the dirt, he grabbed him by the vest to pull him closer. Daryl immediately wrapped his arms around the younger man and smiled as they studied each other closely; so close he could count the cute freckles on Rick’s nose. 

“Missed me?” he grunted.

Rick nodded, smiling. “You?”

He nodded. 

They both chuckled at their dorkiness and tentatively delved closer and closer until their lips brushed against each other. Rick smiled and pressed closer, parting his lips in a silent invitation which Daryl eagerly took, and once again, he thrust his tongue into Rick’s mouth, exploring, marking, owning— their actions guarded from the others by the tall plants.

Daryl’ hands found the hem of Rick’s shirt and they tentatively rolled it up a tad to brush the soft, sweaty skin underneath.

“Dad?” Carl asked suddenly as he came closer and they parted hastily. 

“Later?” Rick asked.

Daryl nodded. “Later.” 

After he was finished with the car, he made his way inside. Rick was already in there and by the looks of it, he’d showered and changed unto fresh clothes. He smiled brightly when he spotted him, all pink from sunburn and the shower. 

Gorgeous. 

The hunter made his way over to the table where Rick was feeding lil’ Ass kicker.

“Ya got a bit of sunburn,” the archer observed, roaming his eyes over Rick’s face. “Suits ya.”

The former leader smirked bashfully. “Thanks.”

“Was it too awkward?” he asked with just the slightest amount of mirth in his tone, motioning with his head toward Zach and Glenn, sitting on the other table playing some cards game with Beth and Maggie. 

“Not really,” Rick sighed, readjusting Judith in his arms. “We just laughed it off and agreed on never speaking of it again. Everybody else knows, though and they do want to talk about it.”

Daryl figured. They all kept shooting each other amused glances from time to time and chuckling to themselves. They would give those guys a hard time for a while. Something like that would be hard to move past. 

And indeed the others wanted to keep bringing the subject after dinner, when the youngest had already gone to sleep.

Rick got the brunt of the jokes for Glenn had made damn sure to stress out _who_ was behind the idea and _who_ had kissed everyone. 

“Why don’ ya tell us how it _really_ went?” Daryl said, throwing a warning glare Glenn’s way and the younger man explained, in wide aspects, how it really went. It didn’t make much difference for the rest still found a way to make Rick the center of the jokes. 

He wanted to snap at them all, but Rick coped with the teasing graciously, chuckling lightheartedly and blushing adorably.

“Aright, Rick, I want a verdict. Who’s the better kisser?” Michonne asked a blushing Rick who didn’t even know how to answer.

“S’ obviously me, can’t ya tell?” Daryl blurted out, bringing the uncomfortable attention away from Rick. 

There was a loud reaction from everyone; from laughs, catcalls to cheers. Rick seemed taken aback for just a second before he grinned brightly and thanked him silently.

Eventually, everybody quit the teasing, at least for the night, and headed to their respective cells. Rick left as well, taking a sleeping Judith to sleep and sending a pointed _Are you coming?_ — or something to that effect—glance his way, right before he left the room. And yes, Daryl was definitely coming.

When he made his way over to Rick’s cell and moved the blanket curtain aside to peer in, Lil’ Ass kicker was already sleeping in her crib and Rick was sitting on his bed taking off his boots.

“Hey,” the younger man greeted, lifting his gaze to meet his and offering a suggestive smirk.

Daryl stepped in and slowly made his way toward the bed. Rick hooked one finger in one of his pants pockets and tugged him closer. 

Ducking down not to hit his head on the top bunk, he climbed on the tiny bed and on top of Rick as the former leader kept tugging him while lying on his back.

Wasting no time, the archer delved in to capture the plump lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, receiving soft grunts from the man; needy sounds that he greedily swallowed. 

Rick’s mouth was a feast and he got lost tasting and exploring it while his hand caressed the small patch of uncovered skin where the younger man’s shirt had lifted up with their groping, gently tracing it with his fingertips before wrapping his hand around Rick’s waist to pull him closer.

Daryl was painfully hard in his pants and he rocked his hips forward, thrusting against Rick’s crotch, hoping in vain to release some of the tension. It only made it worse. 

Nipping his way from Rick’s mouth to his neck, he sniffed the alluring scent like an addict and darted his tongue out to lick a wet trail from there toward the spot behind the man’s ear. 

“Jesus, Daryl,” Rick huffed as he trembled, digging blunt fingernails on the archer’s flanks while arching his back for more contact. 

“Ya like that?” he asked huskily, receiving an eager nod as reply.

“Need more,” Rick panted between open mouthed kisses on his bare shoulder while he snaked his hand between their bodies to rub both their straining erections. 

They grunted in pleasure and Daryl started thrusting against the teasing hand.

He was so immersed in the moment and Rick was so deliciously pliant and warm, that before noticing, Daryl kneed the man’s thighs apart to settle himself between them and sit on his hunches. Hooking his arms under the younger man’s knees, he pulled the limbs up and wrapped them around his waist so he could press his hard erection against Rick’s ass. 

Daryl rutted against it and the legs around his waist tightened, eagerly pulling him closer as the younger man moaned and grunted against his neck.

With the hand not supporting his weight, Daryl traced a jean covered path from the underside of the man’s thigh down to his ass where he cupped the man’s cheek and squeezed it. He’d never touched Rick there and his hand was desperate to keep exploring, so much his fingers started tracing the cleft between the two mounds of flesh and adding pressure on the fabric as they became desperate to sink into Rick. 

And before he knew what he was doing, Daryl huffed against the man’s ear. “Turn around.”

Rick opened his eyes and sent him a hesitant glance. And then it dawned on him, what he’d asked.

“Ya don’ gotta,” he was quick to say after a heavy pause, but just then, Rick’s glance turned from hesitant to curious. 

“What d’ you wanna do to me?” the former deputy asked in a low, thick with want, voice. 

Daryl huffed. “Nothin’ ya don’ wanna.”

“I want everythin’ you wanna give me,” Rick panted and leaned forward to place tender kisses along his jaw and down to his neck, tickling him with his beard, and between kisses he asked. “What do you want, Daryl?”

“Wanna be inside ya…” he gruffed, tilting his head back a bit to give more room for Rick’s plush lips to keep pleasuring his neck. His arms were trembling as they held his weight, but he didn’t care.

“I want that,” Rick huffed suddenly as he pulled back. Daryl looked down at the younger man for confirmation. Instead of doubt as he would’ve expected to find, he was met with determination and want. “I want you inside me, now.”

“Ya don’ think ‘s too fast?” he asked carefully, doing his best not to burst with lust at the request.

Rick smirked. “Do you?”

“I asked first.”

“Nothin’ can be too fast these days,” Rick reasoned. “We don’t know how much time we got.”

Daryl nodded. “I agree. Was just makin’ certain ya were ready. S’ only like our second date n’ ya were kissin’ other men the first one.”

Rick chuckled. “You’re gonna give me a hard time as well?”

“Ya bet I’mma give it t’ ya hard,” he huffed.

There was a short pause right before they burst into a chuckle at his lame attempt at dirty talk.

“So how do we do this?” Rick asked him, with that same raw vulnerability he showed him and only him when he asked for guidance or a hint in the right direction.

“Ya trust me?” Daryl asked, already knowing the answer.

“You know I do,” Rick smiled. 

“Then follow my lead.”

The former leader nodded without a single trace of hesitation, giving himself completely to the archer. And Daryl took him alright.

They discarded their clothes with haste but quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, much less lil’ ass kicker. Rick was hesitant to do it with her in the room, but Daryl argued she was in the safest place in the prison and that’s where she should be. Plus, she was a baby and completely unaware of what was going to happen.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Rick informed way too innocently for someone completely naked on a bed waiting for their hunter to fuck him. “Wow,” Rick said suddenly, fixing his eyes on Daryl’s shaft. “You’re um—you’re big.”

“That a problem? ‘Cuz we can stop this right here. Ya just gotta say it.”

“Christ, no,” Rick huffed. “Too late for that. I need you, now.”

Daryl took a deep, shuddering breath to calm the burning need to sink himself between Rick’s pale thighs on the spot, grabbing the lube the younger man had given him instead.

Pouring a generous amount of it in his hand, he coated three of his fingers then crawled his way over Rick’s body. 

He’d done this a few times before, but none of those times had been the guy’s first time, and he hadn’t cared a tenth about them as he cared about Rick.

“This gon’ hurt a bit…so tell me if ya need me t’ stop,” he said gently but leaving no room for arguments.

Rick nodded, worrying his lower lip. 

Steadily holding that nervous, but determined gaze, Daryl brought his fingers to their destination. The tight hole clenched in reflex as he lightly pressed the tip of his index against it. Rick gasped at the foreign sensation so he moved the finger away quickly. 

Daryl delved in to kiss Rick’s parted lips reassuringly just as he pressed his fingertip against the virgin hole again, leaving it there this time. Rick mewled against his mouth and he could feel the tight ring of muscle relaxing against the tip of his digit, so he took the opportunity and pushed in just enough for the tip to penetrate.

Pulling back from the kiss, he studied the younger man’s expression. There was nothing but want in them as the man licked his lips and glanced back at him through heavy lidded eyes.

“More,” Rick mouthed and Daryl complied, adding more pressure and pushing his finger inside the tight channel until it passed the initial resistance. A mere grunt followed by a husky moan was his answer as well as the creamy thighs parting further to give him more access.

He kept working Rick open with patient care until three of his thick fingers could be thrust in and out with little resistance while the archer marveled at the velvety texture of Rick’s warm insides. 

He yearned to be buried there.

After that, and not without Rick’s grunted complaint, he pulled the fingers out and lined himself with the quivering entrance, pressing the broad head of his shaft against it.

“Ya need me t’ stop, ya say it, got it?” Daryl said, making damn sure Rick understood. He only started pushing in after the younger man had nodded and repeated the words himself.

It was tight, maybe too tight, and Daryl worried it’d be way too much for Rick, for as the farmer had pointed out, he indeed had a large dick. But Rick was eager and docile, and obediently followed Daryl’s instruction to relax and breathe deeply as he was stretched wider than ever before. 

Eventually, and after much patience from both of them, Daryl was fully buried inside his lover. 

“Ya okay?” he asked huskily, willing himself to stay completely still.

“M’ fine just….just gimme a minute,” Rick grunted, squirming slightly underneath his bulk as he fought to adjust to the thick girth filling him. 

“You tell me when I move,” Daryl instructed and Rick nodded.

“Do it.”

“Ya sure’”

“I’m sure,” Rick panted, wrapping his legs around the archer’s waist to tug him deeper. “I want you to fuck me, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl needed no more prompting, so he slowly pulled his hips back to slide out of the tight sheath and then thrust back inside in the same, slow fashion. 

That slow rhythm lasted a good five minutes before Rick grew impatient and desperate for more.

So he sped up his thrusts and Rick looked absolutely beautiful beneath him; with his rosy, kiss-swollen lips parted in a silent cry and his eyes tightly shut and his head thrown back against the pillow with his neck completely exposed to Daryl’s predatory mouth. 

And he thrust and pulled out and thrust back in to pull out once more, over and over again, in a steady, hard rhythm, aiming and hitting that spot inside Rick each time he sunk in, forcing the leader to bite his lips and swallow his moans of absolute pleasure as his body hung precariously over the edge to pure pleasure. 

Daryl came violently inside his lover’s welcoming heat, spurting rope after rope of warm, thick release, marking and coating Rick’s insides for the first time of many to come.

Rick came with Daryl’s hand stroking him with steady, fast movements, sinfully arching his back off the mattress and mewling softly when the powerful orgasm hit him.

“Rick, ya ‘kay?” Daryl asked after at least a minute of heavy breathing from both men. “Does it hurt?”

Rick sighed heavily and flicked his eyes to the side to meet the hunter’s; a satisfied grin plastered on his face as he muttered. “I’m more than okay.”

“C’mon, ya can tell me if it hurt.”

“Yeah, but I loved it,” Rick admitted, closing his eyes. “If I close my eyes, I really can’t tell if you’re still inside me or not.”

Daryl smiled. “Ya like that?” he said, nudging the younger man to open his eyes. “Ya like havin’ me inside ya?”

“Fuck, yeah, Daryl,” Rick panted, running a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I love it… Shit. I wanna do it again.”

Daryl smirked smugly. “Ya gonna h’ve t’ wait a bit fer that. We gotta regain our strength, sweetheart.”

“So soon, right?” the younger man said impatiently and when Daryl nodded, he delved in for a needy kiss.

After they parted, Rick tucked himself beside him in the same fashion as the night before. 

“Ya still wanna be more n’ friends?” Daryl asked out of the blue, wanting to know if Rick had really meant what he’d said in his drunkenness.

“I think we already are,” the former leader said with a smile. “And I meant it.”

Daryl smiled back and leaned closer to plant a short kiss on Rick’s nose. “We are.” 

Rick fell asleep before him, safely tucked beside him. Daryl watched the younger man sleep for a long while before his tired eyes began to drop. And just as sleep was claiming him, he smiled happily.

Indeed, bless that stupid game.


End file.
